


You Have the Right to Remain Silent

by velvetcadence



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bad Flirting, Bad Puns, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Erik is a Big Dorkface, M/M, Officer Cute Charles Xavier, Pickup Lines, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcadence/pseuds/velvetcadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik has really bad brain-to-mouth filter. Like that one time he said, “Damn I would tap that ass so bad” so loud the really cute police officer gave him a ticket for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have the Right to Remain Silent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanh410](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanh410/gifts), [ikeracity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikeracity/gifts).



> Happy birthday to two of my favorite people in the world: Ike and my darling Hanh!
> 
> Prompted by Hanh's reblogged [tumblr post](http://hanh410.tumblr.com/post/61841215416/crlsscolfer-today-i-saw-this-cute-cop-and-my).
> 
> Thank you to Kage for the beta! Smooches <3

Erik thinks he’s been rather remiss with his workout lately. It’s the first thing he thinks when he comes home from work and finds he can’t quite catch his breath from using the stairs. When he gets to his room his desk is stacked up with coffee-stained mugs, the bed almost unrecognizable under used laundry. The dishes are still in need of washing, the carpet vacuumed...household chores he desperately needs to catch up on. Alright, so maybe the workout isn’t the only thing he’s been ignoring lately.

“I’m not messy,” he tells himself, defensive. “I’m just busy. Very busy!”

Nevertheless, he manages to clean the kitchen and the living room before shaking his head at the bedroom, leaving it for later. There’s a whole afternoon left to Erik’s “me-time” so he finds a (relatively) clean shirt and sweatpants, ties his running shoes up and makes his circuit around the block.

When Erik runs, he runs to heavy guitars and pulsing drum beats. It’s loud enough to drown the outside world, loud enough that Erik finds ‘that zone’, that perfect place between his rage at the world and the strange peace he’s beginning to find within himself. Inside ‘the zone’, Erik is perfectly attuned to his heart beat, to the pounding of his feet on the pavement and every measured breath. When he rounds the corner, however, his mind does an impression of slipping on a banana peel, crashing through the floor and into a conveniently-placed bucketful of water, because oh hot damn, there is a really good-looking police officer standing right there.

Erik slows down to savor the view and thinks to himself, _Damn, I would tap that ass so bad._

Officer Cute, named so because that’s what went through Erik’s mind when he saw him for the first time, whips his head up so fast the little curl on his forehead bounces. Erik’s body just stops what he’s doing until he’s effectively gawking at the man haloed by afternoon sunlight. Queen’s Bicycle song comes up next on Erik’s playlist just as Officer Cute is getting up from his own motorbike. The world slows down like that Baywatch show when he does so. Erik finds the sway of his shoulders entrancing, all solid and compact and wow, he really is fitting that uniform _really_ well—shit, is he walking up to Erik oh fucking hell abort _abort fucking beam me up Scotty—_

“I’m going to have to arrest you.”

Erik blinks, taking his headphones off.  “What?”

“I said: I’m going to have to arrest you.”

“Oh sh—whatever I did, officer, um, I swear I didn’t mean it.”

“I should hope not, because it’s criminal of you to look as hot as you do.”

...Huh.

Well.

That’s.

 _Holy shit_ , Erik thinks.

“Holy shit,” his mouth says. And then, “Shit, did I say that I wanted to tap your ass out loud?”

A little old lady passing by sniffs pointedly at him, but the policeman only smiles charmingly, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “Since it’s your first offense, I suppose I could let you off with just a ticket.”

Erik watches dumbly as Officer Cute reaches into his back pocket and scribbles something in a little notebook before tearing out a page. He doesn’t let go when Erik numbly reaches for the paper, saying, “Here, because you’ve got _fine_ written all over you.” The line is delivered with an unabashed once-over.

“...Fuck.”

“Yes, _please_.”

Erik’s ears turn flaming hot and he just knows he’s turned red like a stoplight. “I just...u-uh…” Officer Cute smiles, biting his lip as he does so. He raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve got the right to remain silent...but I’m rather hoping you’ll be screaming my name instead.”

 _Oh sweet merciful—_ “Do your lines ever actually work?” Erik asks, because _fuck him_ , the universe has conspired to land him a man with an affinity for the most ridiculous brand of humor.

Erik thinks he might be in love.

Officer Cute winks, and it’s such an adorable face Erik has to physically restrain himself lest he be legitimately jailed for public indecency.

“I’ll tell you in the morning.” Erik watches him get back on his bike, deliberately leaning a little too far for Erik’s sake (and he’s sure of it because _Jesus Fucking Christ those pants stretched over that ass_ ) before sparing him a heated glance and a two-fingered salute.

When he’s gone, Erik can only stare dumbly at the paper in his hand. It contains a number, a name and a cheeky “call me! ;)”

Oh yeah, Erik’s definitely tapping that ass. Right after he cleans house, of course. Pocketing the ticket, he makes it home in record time. He can’t care less that his workout is getting delayed yet again, because he’s sure that he’s getting something a little... _harder_ , shall we say, than just a jog around the block. There’s a rather handsome policeman intent on taking him all the way, after all.


End file.
